


Ace of Hearts

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10336118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : Anything from the Movie through NeedCONTENT WARNING: Canonical minor character deathThe simplest things may become anchors against life’s storms





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Missing Scene Fanfiction | Ace of Hearts

##  Ace of Hearts

##### Written by Geminia   
Comments? Write to us at [Geminia905@aol.com](mailto:Geminia905@aol.com)

  * SPOILERS : Anything from the Movie through Need 
  * CONTENT WARNING: Canonical minor character death 
  * The simplest things may become anchors against life's storms 
  * PG [D] [A] [Hc] 



* * *

Italics inside double quotation marks indicate direct quotes

  


Joyful the sound, the word goes around   
From father to son, to son...   
And the voice is so clear, time after time it keeps on   
Calling you, calling you on   
\- Father To Son by Queen

  


* * *

  


"Daddy!" The squeal rang out down the hallway at the same time the front door opened.

"Hey, Kiddo!" Jack laughed out loud as he dropped his duffle just in time to catch the small body that hurled itself into his arms. A book thumped against the back of his head, accompanied by a softer impact between his shoulderblades. It would only be a matter of time...

"Read me story!" The demand was made with all the intensity and seriousness a three year-old could muster--accompanied by the requisite pout, of course.

"Charlie, your father just got home," Sara scolded lightly as she made her way to them. Jack leaned down to give her a kiss, which ended in laughter as their son wriggled impatiently between them. "Welcome home, Jack." 

"Story, Daddy!" The little boy brought his head up between theirs, his nose brushing his father's as he stared him in the eye. "Pleeeease?"

Sara gave Jack's arm a pat, knowing from past experience there was no way he could refuse that plea, and reached down for his bag. "I'll just take this to the bedroom," she told him with a smile, then left the two to their storytime.

"Okay, Charlie, c'mon." Jack made his way to the recliner, positioning the boy on his lap as he sat. The familiar stuffed animal was positioned between them and he accepted the book he was handed, glancing at the familiar cover. "This one again? Don't you want Daddy to read you a new book?"

"No. This one." Small hands slapped the book for emphasis.

"Ok. Ok." Jack laughed and began to read.

" _This is George. He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey--but he was always curious..._ "

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~*

Jack lay on the sofa, his eyes closed and waiting for sleep to overtake him. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and his last day of leave and he planned to make the most of it with a nice nap now and watching a good game on the tube with the guys later that evening.

Just as he began to drift off, however, he was jolted awake by a shrill screech from outside. "Charlie!?" He was on his feet and running before he realized it. 

As he reached the porch, he found his son, crying and shouting as he seemed to be wrestling with the neighbors' dog. Hurrying over, afraid the normally sweet-tempered lab had suddenly turned and bitten the boy, he was finally able to see the real problem. The dog had a familiar little form in its mouth, and Charlie was trying to tug it away.

"Give...back!" The boy's growl was met with an answering one from the dog.

As relief flooded through him that his son was not injured, Jack found it difficult not to laugh at the sight. At least, it was difficult until a pair of tear-filled eyes looked up at him, begging for his help even before the words left the child's mouth.

"Daddy! Help!"

"Charlie, he thinks you're playing." Reaching out, Jack put one hand over his son's and then gave the dog a smack on the nose with the other as he commanded sharply, "Hersh! Drop it!"

The dog immediately released its hold with a whimper and padded back a few steps. Jack watched his son cradle his favorite toy to his chest, then reached out to give the dog a pat to let him know there were no hard feelings.

"Daddy, lookit." Charlie drew his attention to the little stuffed animal he held. Cotton stuffing was hanging from a gaping hole in the left shoulder where the silver material had parted. "He's hurt." The boy sniffed loudly, his lower lip trembling.

"Aww, it's okay, Charlie. Let's go inside and see if Mom can doctor him up." Jack kissed his son's forehead as he walked into the house. "Sara!" he called out as he headed through the house.

"What?" A good-natured growl answered from the basement staircase as his wife made her way up with a basket full of folded laundry.

"We've had a casualty among the troops. I need my CMO to have a look." He nodded down at Charlie, who was holding his toy up for his mother to see. "Hersh apparently decided he was in the mood for Ace a-la-mode."

"Bad dog," his son grumbled.

"Well, we'll just have to keep Ace inside from now on, okay?" Sara gave her son a smile, then raised her clothes basket up to his level. "Put him on here and I'll take him to...the infirmary and patch him up." Seeing his hesitation to let the toy go, she smirked up at her husband before talking to Charlie once more. "C'mon, Charlie, I'll take him to surgery and my nurse here will read you your favorite book while you wait."

"Okay, Mommy. Make him better." He gave his friend one last hug before placing him on the basket and wriggling out of his father's arms. "Gonna get my book. Daddy, get in the chair!" He gave his father a push toward the living room, then hurried away as Jack turned to Sara, raising an eyebrow.

"Nurse?"

"Well, you didn't think I was going to salute you and call you 'Lt. Colonel, Sir', did you? Your ego's already big enough, I'm not going to stroke it for you." She knew she'd said the wrong thing the moment it left her mouth, so she wasn't surprised at the wicked gleam that came into her husband's brown eyes. "No, I'm not going to stroke _that_ either, and if you're not careful, you'll be going back on duty a very frustrated grunt."

"Ouch."

Sara just laughed and made her way to their bedroom to mend Charlie's toy. Fortunately, it had mostly ripped along a seam, so the sewing job was relatively easy and left little 'scarring'. When she was finished, she headed back downstairs, stopping to watch for a few moments as Jack read to their son. 

" _The great moment had come. George waved goodbye and went aboard. The door was closed. Professor Wiseman began to count: "Five -- four -- three -- two -- one -- GO!"..._ "

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Jack stood in the hallway, his hands clutching the little toy tightly as he examined it closely. You could see just a small irregular stitch where Sara had sewn it up after Hershey had used it as a chew toy. The silver material was just a few shades darker in spots than it was originally--not bad considering it was one of only a few items that had survived the fire that destroyed their old home several years back. One foot was slightly smaller than the other, but was at least still attached to the leg; a testament to both the destructive power of a vacuum--not that the vacuum fared much better given the state of its belt afterward--and the sewing skills of his wife. There were a few small drops of dried paint and now a few larger drops of salty wetness. But there was no drop of red to be found.

For a moment it seemed strange to him. Why was there no red? After all that had happened to this toy, why was this time any different?

Because this time the toy had been sitting atop a shelf. It had not been taken out to meet the neighbor's dog. It had not been clutched in tiny arms as a desperate escape was made from a burning house or the new home was painted. It had not been accidentally left on the floor while breakfast was eaten and Mom was vacuuming.

It had been set up on a shelf because the child who loved it for so long was now too old to carry a stuffed animal around with him. He had no longer needed a constant travel-sized companion or to have his father read him the same book when he was sick or just wanted time with Dad. His time had now been filled with playing ball and riding a bike.

But just this once, why couldn't he have gone to play with his old friend Ace? Or gone to pick up the old, worn book and brought it to his father for old times' sake?

"Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill?" The soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. Beside him, Sara rose slowly from her chair and one of his hands instinctively moved to her shoulder as he looked up into the doctor's sorrowful eyes. "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."

He was only peripherally aware of Sara's keening wail as his whole world crashed around him with the deafening, echoing sound of a gunshot.

~**~

The room was totally silent. Sara's father, Mike, had arrived soon after the doctor had led them to the small room, finding his daughter weeping over her child's still body and refusing to let Charlie go. It had taken much cajoling on his part and a mild sedative to finally get the distraught woman to leave the room. Mike had taken her home and Jack was left alone in the room with his son.

He had been unable to provide any comfort for his wife, standing silently still, through the whole scene. His eyes had not moved from his son's quiescent face. Never had Charlie been so still. Even in sleep he would be restless, constantly shifting as though too much energy was stored in his small body and was forever seeking a release.

He hadn't allowed himself to shed a tear. He'd heard it said that there was solace in grief--in the outlet that weeping provided. He deserved no such solace. He had failed as a father. He had allowed his child to come to harm--by his own weapon

Now, alone with the damning evidence of his failure, he sat in a chair beside the bed. Ace sat nestled against Charlie's side and an old, worn book was opened to reveal the familiar words and pictures.

" _This is George. He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey--but he was always curious..._ " Voice and heart seemed to break as one.

Drops of salty wetness fell for the first and last time, leaving their mark on the ragged, curled pages of a book whose words would likely be forever silenced.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

The house was dark when Jack pulled into the driveway. It was only nine o'clock, surely Sara hadn't gone to bed already. Maybe the electricity had been knocked out.

Shrugging, he climbed out of the truck and reached around to pull his duffel bag from its bed. Amazing how what little he had stored at the base had already been packed up before he and his men returned from Abydos. You would've thought General West hadn't expected them back.

Imagine that.

He made his way up the steps and onto the porch, then stopped to look around him. He took a deep breath and just allowed himself to enjoy the fresh, cool air. There was a hint of ozone left over from the thunderstorm that he had followed on his way from the mountain. 

How long had it been since he had simply stopped to enjoy the clean scent of the air after a storm? How long since he had appreciated the sounds of crickets reawakening as nature resumed its course after the deluge?

Maybe now he could understand it more. He'd been caught up in the storm, unwilling to fight for his own life. He'd been prepared to let the floodwaters drag him down. Hell, he'd been ready to take thousands of innocents down with him.

Then, without even looking for it, he'd found shelter from that storm. A ray of light in the form of a young, idealistic, four-eyed geek. At least that's how he'd started out thinking of Dr. Daniel Jackson.

Now, though, he was the man that had saved Jack, Kawalsky, and Ferretti along with all those thousands of innocents. Together, they had weathered the storm on a planet thousands of light-years away and that storm had transformed them both.

Jackson was dead to this world now, not that the world seemed to care when it believed him alive. Yet, in his death he'd found life. Life on an alien world with a woman who loved him and a people that had adopted him as one of their own.

Jack had gone to that world seeking his death, yet had returned to earth reborn. In helping to save the Abydonians, he had made up - in some small way - for his own loss. He'd given the boy, Skaara, the chance to live and experience things that Charlie never would: growing up, marriage, being a father, growing old. He'd imagined Charlie standing there when Skaara saluted him after the battle and knew that somewhere his son was proud of him and would not want him to throw his own life away.

And it had only taken a stranger sacrificing himself to save him for Jack to wake up and once more fight the storm and enjoy the feeling of completion at its end. 

Now, it was finally time to renew his life.

The key turned in the lock and he gently pushed the door open, dropping his duffel inside the door. The house was quiet and he could see no flickering of candlelight as he would usually encounter during a power outage.

"Sara?" he called loudly and waited. The house remained silent. Could she have gone out for the evening?

Deciding to try the light switch, he reached over and flicked it on. The room lit immediately and he could only stand and stare at the sparcely furnished living room. 

What furniture was left had been covered with white sheets. He made his way around the room, numb hands pulling at the fabric to expose the sofa and his favorite recliner. As the latter was exposed, the sheet fell to the floor unnoticed.

Sitting on the chair's seat was a familiar stuffed animal and an old, worn book along with a slip of paper. He picked up the paper and instantly recognized his wife's handwriting.

_Jack,_

_I don't know if you'll even be back to read this._

_I hope so, because I don't even want to think of the alternative._

_Whatever happens, I can't live this way anymore._

_He was my son, too, Jack. I miss him every day, but I keep going._

_I've tried to be here for you, but you only pushed me away._

_I can't do it anymore. I don't know if I'm strong enough to make it_

_myself, but I do know I'm not strong enough to support_

_us both while getting nothing in return._

_I'm leaving you the book and Ace. Maybe you can find some solace with them._

_I hope you can keep them close, remember what you--what we had_

_and still find a way to go on._

_Charlie would've wanted that._

_Sara_

He stood there staring at the words for what seemed an eternity. Outside, he could hear the distant sound of thunder and the light patter of rain beginning to fall once more.

Finally, he reached down, picked up the toy and book, sat himself in the chair and held on to his two treasures. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and listened as the rain began to pound harder on the roof and windows. A gust of wind blew through the screen door, snatching the letter from his hand and sending it floating across the room.

The storm began to rage once more, but he was ready for it. This time there was no question.

Life would go on and so would he.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Storms had come and gone over the last few years; each one proving harder to weather than the previous. He'd managed it, though, with the help of a new family.

It wasn't a conventional family by any means. His 'kids' were all adults - one was even twice his age - and it had not been his choice to form such a strong bond with them. Military regs aside, the last thing he needed was yet another chance to screw up and lose someone he cared about. Little had he known how quickly these three mis-matched individuals would worm their way through his defenses and each secure their own place in his heart.

One was an alien carrying the larval form of their worst enemy in his stomach. That fact alone was enough to make his inclusion in Jack's new family seem downright strange. However, it hadn't taken long for Jack to see the good in this man - only the amount of time it took for Teal'c to turn and fire on his own people to save a bunch of humans marked for slaughter. As they'd gotten acquainted, he'd discovered a fierce loyalty in the other man - a loyalty proven time and again in the heat of battle. Now, this former enemy was one of the few people that Jack called friend. 

The second, a female captain, was assigned to his unit despite his protests. It wasn't the fact that 'Sam' Carter was a 'she' that had concerned him - though her preconceived notion that this was the case made for an irresistable source of torment. What had made him less than receptive to her addition to his field unit was the fact that not only was she a scientist, but she had just arrived from the Pentagon of all places. Pencil pushers put on field duty equaled casualties in his book. He'd had to rewrite his book a bit, however, after seeing firsthand how well the Captain handled herself when it really mattered. She was a good soldier and he could honestly say he was proud to serve with her.

Then there was the youngest member of his adopted clan. The same man who had seen him through that terrible storm nearly four years prior. The kid was another scientist, but he had long since forgiven him for that. At their first meeting, all he'd seen was a long-haired, four-eyed, geeky nuisance that he would have to put up with in order to achieve his goal of self-destruction in the line of duty. Then that same nuisance had put himself between O'Neill and a pointless death in the name of stupidity. By the time he and the remainder of his team had left that planet and Daniel Jackson behind, he'd developed a grudging respect for the young man that would later lead to a rewarding friendship.

He'd been forced to watch helplessly as Jackson lost his new family and had been forced to rejoin the world that had so often rejected him in the past. The sight of the young man standing alone in one of the deserted hallways of the SGC their first night back, lost and seemingly abandoned to his fate by the same government that had been so adament that he be pulled away from his new home, had moved Jack to take the intergalactic waif back to his place. At the time it had seemed the only thing to do; Jackson had helped him once, now he was returning the favor.

Little had he known where that small act of kindness would lead.

Before he knew it, he had a civilian on his team -something that would never have happened if he hadn't seen how well the kid handled himself on that first mission to Abydos - and a head of rapidly greying hair. If he'd known that Daniel was to become the galaxy's whipping boy - he probably would've still had him on the team. He'd very quickly come to the realization that he could deny the man practically nothing. A fact that Ferretti seemed to constantly find great amusement in reminding him of while conveniently forgetting his own inabilities in that department.

He couldn't think of a sole member of the SGC that Daniel hadn't managed to charm. Even General Hammond, the SGC's tough-as-nails C.O. had soon turned into a combination teddy bear and pussy cat after constant exposure to the Jackson Charm. Not that he'd ever let the General hear him say that, of course. He knew first hand that the 'teddy-cat's teeth and claws were still very much intact.

Given the odds, he really couldn't blame himself for falling under the spell as well. Besides, he could think of much worse fates than having Daniel Jackson for a friend. What better qualities could one hope for than unswerving loyalty and compassion, complete honesty, and a self-sacrificing nature.

Okay, he could do without the last. So could the forementioned greying hair.

How many times had Daniel died, or nearly died now?

There was that lovely moment on Ra's ship when he'd saved Jack from his own stupidity. 

The incident on the Nox world - okay, so that had been a team effort to reach the other side, but it still counts. 

Couldn't forget that nice little mind game that good ol' Nem had played on them - and it wasn't from lack of trying. He'd put that episode behind him for the most part, but there were still nights that he woke in a cold sweat with Daniel's screams ringing in his ears.

By far, though, the worst of them all had been the moment he'd walked away and left his friend to die, alone, on Klorel's ship. The younger man lying in the hallway with half his chest charred away, telling him to go and offering to watch their backs had been the worst moment of his life since... 

No, not going there.

At the time it seemed as though they were all on a suicide mission and that Daniel was simply going to die a little earlier than the rest. That knowledge was the only thing that had allowed him to leave the young man's side. 'No one gets left behind'. That was his rule. He'd broken it that day and the suicide mission had turned out to be anything but.

They'd won. They'd defeated their enemy and kept the world safe, but as he'd stared out of his damaged glider at the planet that owed its existance to a man it had previously scorned, he'd prepared to mourn his friend yet again.

Jack stood in the gateroom, prepared to celebrate their victory along with everyone else -- and then drown his grief in the privacy of his home -- when suddenly a new reason for celebration had appeared. Daniel Jackson, alive and well, emerged from the crowd. His blue eyes lit up as they fell on the rest of his team, but he hesitated just a few steps out of the throng. There was an uncertainty about the younger man, almost as though he was not sure they'd be as happy to see him as he obviously was to see them.

Jack knew he was grinning like an idiot as he shook his head slightly in disbelief at the other man's inability to comprehend his own worth. He wasn't really aware he had moved at first, but the moment he opened his arms wide and engulfed his friend in a bear hug, he knew exactly how much Daniel meant to him.

He realized how much he depended on the young man to be there. How much he'd grown to rely on that steady presence at his side. He could not picture walking through that 'gate without him. Somewhere along the line the unassuming scholar had managed to secure a place in Jack's heart that no one would ever be able to fill.

Yet, that bond had come at a price. Daniel had died, almost died, or been presumed dead more times than he wanted to think about. How many times had the young man been patched back together since their first meeting?

"Space Monkey." The words slipped out seemingly of their own accord and as he pulled back, cupping his friend's face briefly as he drank in the sight of him, he could see the confusion on Daniel's face at the nickname just before it was absorbed by a shy smile that lit his entire face.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Jack sighed as he thought back to that day in the gateroom. Had it really only been a few short months ago? It seemed like a lifetime.

Running a hand through his hair, he looked down at the frail form on the bed before him. Brow knitted in pain, hair wild and sweat-drenched, skin far too pale and hands clenching the sides of the bed, the spectre of his friend lay whimpering in his restless sleep. Jack recognized the signs; it would be only a matter of moments before the young man awoke from whatever nightmare he was currently trapped in. He longed to reach out and touch Daniel; let him know a friend was near and he wasn't alone with his torments, but he'd learned the hard way that it only made matters worse. 

Daniel had wrapped himself in a cloak of shame and guilt, convinced that he was undeserving of his friends' compassion and forgiveness. It tore Jack apart to see the younger man this way. Any real transgressions had been forgiven back in that damn mine. The only thing Daniel had been guilty of was taking off after that royal--

Jack cut himself off there. He didn't even want to think about Shyla right now. The only thing it accomplished was to make him want to go back to that planet and rip the little bitch's head off. She was the one to blame for all of this. No one else...well, that wasn't exactly true. He couldn't help blaming himself either.

Daniel had messed up and when this was all over, they would discuss his vanishing act, however, the archaeologist could never have stood by and let anyone take their own life if he was in a position to stop them. The day he did would be the day he was off the team for good--and this time it wouldn't be Hammond making that decision.

No, that was just Daniel being Daniel. He should've been prepared for it the moment he saw the cloaked figure of a woman in amongst the Jaffa. Undoubtedly, Daniel's thoughts had turned immediately to his lost wife and his actions shouldn't have come as any surprise. 

Wasn't he supposed to expect the unexpected?

Yeah. Just like he should've noticed that one of his team -- the civilian, no less -- was still shackled during their spectacular escape attempt. The thought of Daniel's broken body beneath all that rubble still left a foul taste in his mouth. And, damnit, it had put the younger man straight into that spaced out little tramp's hands.

He could clearly remember the last time he'd seen his friend--his real friend. Daniel had been unconfortable in their presence; not happy at all about the clean, fancy robes he sported as they toiled in the filfth, but wanting to see them--to let them know he hadn't forgotten them and was working on getting them free.

The man that came down that second time and had returned with them was not Daniel. It was some stranger, created by that damn sarcophagus and nurtured by Shyla. Its name was Addiction and even if it had controled Daniel's mind and body, it was no part of his true self--it would not claim his soul. Neither he, nor Carter or Teal'c would allow that to happen.

A gasp pulled him from his thoughts once more and he found a pair of wide, frightened blue eyes scanning the room frantically as the nightmare melted away and Daniel focused on his surroundings--on him.

"It's okay, Danny. You're safe," he assured gently. He didn't expect a verbal response and didn't receive any. Daniel hadn't spoken for two days. Not since their wrestling match in the storeroom.

When Daniel finally emerged from Addiction's grasp and Withdrawal's hellish assault only to find himself pointing a gun at his best friend's face. He'd crumpled before Jack's eyes and the older man had not hesitated in taking his friend in his arms, offering him the comfort that was so desperately needed. That was the moment that Jack had realized the truth about Daniel and the stranger that had occupied his body for so long.

His anger at what had seemed a betrayal to him slipped away into a sadness for the friend that he'd almost lost and a determination to not only retrieve his friend from the ruins, but also his teammate. His faith had been shaken and he knew it would be a while before he could be certain of his ability to trust Daniel in the field again. How strong of a hold would the sarcophagus have over him? He knew something of drug and alcohol addiction and the temptation they could continue to present even after you think yourself clean and sober. How much worse could something as insidious as a goa'uld immortality machine be?

It didn't matter. Daniel would get past it. He had to. Jack could not picture SG-1 surviving without the archaeologist and he knew he didn't want to contemplate going on without his friend. He'd faced that future back on Klorel's ship, but this time circumstances were not out of his control. This time, he would not be forced to abandon his friend to a lonely death. This time, there was something he could do.

"Danny, there's someone here I'd like you to meet." Reaching down into the small bag resting at his feet, he pulled out a small, stuffed animal dressed in silver. "This is Ace." He held the toy up and smiled at the puzzled crease that appeared in Daniel's brow. "We got him for Charlie soon after he began talking. He couldn't pronounce 'Space Monkey' so we shortened it to Ace." He watched realization spread across the younger man's features and had to laugh. "Yes, Daniel, you've just met your namessake."

Reaching out, he plopped the little monkey down on Daniel's chest and watched as shaky hands moved up to hold the toy with the utmost tenderness as the archaeologist inspected it. His fingers brushed lightly over each of the stitches and blemishes obviously not a part of the toy's original make up.

"Yeah, he's been through a lot in his time; got a lot of scars, but he's still in one piece," Jack caught the younger man's eyes as Daniel happened to look up from his inspection of the toy and held the gaze as he continued, "and he's never failed to be there when he was needed."

Blue eyes welled with tears at his words and Daniel started to turn his face away, but Jack was prepared for the reaction and reached out to gently catch his friend's cheek and prevent him from retreating.

"Listen to me, Daniel. How we ended up in those mines isn't important right now." His tone left no doubt that the matter would be discussed at a later date. "What's important is that you never stopped trying to help us. We know that. The fact that we're all here is proof enough that even when that thing had control, there was a part of you still fighting for us." He gave Daniel's cheek a pat, releasing his hold and sitting back, certain that the younger man wasn't going to turn away now. "That's not to say we weren't mad or feeling betrayed, but we're your friends, Danny. We've already forgiven you, but now the rest is up to you."

Jack watched as Daniel closed his eyes and seemed to consider his words for a few long moments. Finally, when they reopened, there was a spark of life -- a glimmer of the old Daniel -- in them and he knew his friend would eventually make his way back to them.

Deciding it was time for a distraction, he reached back down into his duffle and pulled out a thin, tattered yellow book. He was aware of Daniel's curious gaze directed toward him and smiled.

"So, Danny, you like Curious George?" One look at the perplexed look on the younger man's face and he had his answer. "Oh, don't tell me you've never read Curious George! Doctor Jackson, I'm surprised at you. Spouting off all those Egyptian fairy tales left and right, but never read a true children's classic." The exaggerated indignation in his voice had the desired effect as a small smile crept onto his friend's face.

"Well, it looks like it's time for an education, Doctor, but given that neither of us needs Ferretti getting wind of me reading you a bedtime story..." Reaching over, he took Ace from his perch on Daniel's stomach and placed him on the bed at the younger man's side. "I'll read to Ace and you can listen in.

"' _This is George. He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey--but he was always curious.'_ Gee, wonder who _that_ sounds like." He glanced over at the man on the bed. "Did they teach you that gesture in linguistics class, Dr. Jackson?" 

Yes, his friend was definitely coming back to them. He only hoped his teammate would as well.

" _George was alone this morning..._ "

~*~

Somewhere a boy smiled as his father's voice, once silenced, carried memories of love and warmth to him through the words of an old, torn book and the ears of a cherished toy.

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> Quotes are taken from the story 'Curious George Gets a Medal'.  
> This is my first serious 'Jack-centered' piece. Thanks as   
> always to my wonderful Alpha/Beta readers, Judy and Lea. It is also a belated Happy Birthday Fic to Judy.

* * *

  


>   
> © November 28, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television,   
> Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd.   
> Partnership.  
> This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment.   
> All other characters, the story idea and the story itself   
> are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



End file.
